


Silver Moon's Sparking (So Kiss Me)

by lonniek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas Fluff, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonniek/pseuds/lonniek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times that Kira and Malia definitely should have kissed, and 1 time they actually do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Moon's Sparking (So Kiss Me)

**Author's Note:**

> This work was for the TW Femslash Secret Santa exchange!

When Kira and Malia are assigned to be roommates, neither girl understands exactly what building blocks of fate fall into place. They each arrive, duffel bags and suitcases in hand, and bewildered, finally experiencing _college_. Malia’s a dedicated pre-med student and Kira’s goal is to study Forensic Psychology, so she’s majoring in Psych for now. They exchange these packaged bits of information to each other like they do to each of the other first years they meet in the first few weeks, but as they grow closer together, the answers are less canned, and the duo find a harmony in their routines. **  
**

Honestly, Kira has no idea how Malia manages. She has class from 8 am to 4 pm, works from 5 to 8 in the school cafeteria, and then, depending on the night, either stays in to do homework or is going out with the other sorority pledges. But she does it every day, and Kira never sees the fatigue hit Malia in the way that she knows it would hit her if she tried to live that life for more than a night or two. Kira enjoys sleep, but Malia seems to thrive on the energy that all-nighters and throbbing beats provide. Malia’s schedule works for Kira, though. Kira’s always up late studying, so there’s someone to greet Malia when she comes in at four in the morning, and Malia’s there to wake up Kira when she inevitably sleeps through the alarm for her 8:50 Intro to Psych class that she hates. A few people comment on how different they are, how strange it is that they seem to get along so well, but both Kira and Malia understand the drive that exists in the other, the fire pushing them forward and forging them together.

When Malia is officially inducted into her sorority, she invites Kira to the ceremony. Kira helps Malia pick out what to wear: she’s supposed to wear all white, a symbol of her newness to the sorority. It’s all a little too much for Kira, but Malia stops twice while she’s putting on her makeup to fan away the tears that threaten to run through her eyeliner. In the end she chooses to wear one of Kira’s flowy long tops and her own white leather miniskirt. Kira snaps proud mom photos of Malia at the dorm room door and vows to have them printed so that she can put them up around the room. Malia laughs and pulls Kira into a selfie so they can take a cheesy prom photo. Kira decides as the flash goes off that this is the photo they’ll hang above their door.

More people cry than Kira expects when they’re revealed, but she starts to understand just how big of a deal the idea of this community is to Malia. She picks her out of the pledge crowd easily, and when she hears Malia’s story, why she chose to rush, Kira’s moved to tears. In the two minutes that she’s given to explain why she wants this, Malia weaves a story of loss, of a lack of belonging, and then of finding a family. She’s sniffling underneath the mask that conceals her identity, and Kira’s glad she told Malia to wear the waterproof mascara. When the mask comes off, when Malia’s revealed, a part of this new family, everyone bursts into applause. Kira claps and cheers and whistles with her fingers between her teeth, and the rest of the event passes quickly. There’s only one more pledge that night. Afterward, Malia finds Kira and shows her the pin on her top, beaming with pride.

This Malia, the one who is constantly surprised by her own talent, is the most beautiful iteration of her roommate that Kira has ever seen. Her eyes are bright and shiny and full of promise, and her lips look soft and delicate and a little plump from where she’s been biting them in her nerves.

“Congratulations,” Kira says quietly, and Malia pulls her into a fierce hug.

“Thank you.” Kira gasps as they fall together, shocked at how much she wants this embrace to last. They pull back just enough to clasp each other by the elbows, staring at each other’s open-mouthed smiles. Kira’s so proud, and Malia looks like she belongs here, among this perfectly-orchestrated chaos. Malia’s smile gets just a little wider, and Kira realizes she’s been staring at Malia’s mouth. She’s vaguely aware of the fact that they’ve been close for too long, but she doesn’t quite want to break away from this yet, wants to hold onto this moment just a little longer.

Briefly, the thought of kissing her crosses Kira’s mind, and the thought makes her blush. Kira’s been out as bisexual since early in high school, but Malia’s never shared any kind of information with her before. Which is her prerogative, Kira knows. But Malia’s here, looking at her almost like she expects something, and Kira can’t deliver it, not now. She releases Malia’s elbow and claps her on the shoulder.

“I’ve got to study for a Soc. test, so I’m going back to the room. But. Congrats. Really.” Kira pulls Malia in for a short hug made up of awkward, aborted movements until there’s enough space between them that Kira can’t smell her perfume. Malia waves goodbye at her and is pulled into another hug and conversation with one of her new sorority sisters. Kira uses the diversion to slip away. In their room, she groans and drops her head onto her desk and tries to think about what she’s going to do about this crush.

* * *

 

Kira has enough class work to do to keep herself occupied until Fall Break. She and Malia catch each other at either the beginning or the end of each other’s days for a week, waving and grunting good morning and good night to each other as they pass in and out of the room. Kira’s doing an extra credit project for her Statistics class to help make up for the test that she bombed, and Malia’s been busy with sorority grunt work.

When Fall Break finally gets close enough that it’s the light at the end of the tunnel, Malia asks Kira if she has any plans for the long weekend. Kira was originally planning on heading home to New York for the weekend: her parents called to say that they wanted to see her, talk with her about how college is going in person. So she tells Malia, emphatically, that she has absolutely zero plans for the break, and would she like to plan something together. Malia breathes a sigh of relief and lets Kira in on her plan to go camping on the beach. Her sorority sisters have been planning a trip to Las Vegas that Malia just can’t afford, so she’s got nobody to go with. Kira jumps at the chance to go camping and pushes away the butterflies in her stomach that surface whenever she thinks about the fact that she and Malia are going to be in the company of the other for over 72 hours. Kira’s never spent that much consecutive time with anyone other than her parents before, and rather than being _only_ terrifying, Kira tastes the tang of the thrill of it too.

The beach is everything that Malia could have imagined. It’s the time of year just before the Indian Summer begins: the light is warm and golden, making for a thousand and four different selfie opportunities. Malia exhausts herself posing for pictures: draping herself over Kira, beach balls, beach chairs and lifeguard towers so that she can get the best photo angle. Kira watches her quietly from behind her book until Malia gets bored and demands that Kira try to teach her how to surf. Kira let slip as they were packing that she’s been surfing since she was seven, pulled the surfboard from the back of the closet where it sits for most of the school year. Kira tells her over and over again that Malia’s not going to like falling into the water a dozen times, but she insists that she wants to at least _try_ , and Kira can’t say no to Malia when she turns down the corners of her lips and looks at her from under her eyelashes. It’s a low blow, and Kira makes sure to roll her eyes as they stroll out toward the water.

When they get out deep enough, Kira shows off a little bit, because the sun and the spray feel good against her skin, and she’s never surfed just for another person before. The attention is a little bit intoxicating. Once she’s done, Kira drops into the water and holds the board steady so that Malia can get on it. They work for about twenty five minutes on getting Malia to be able to stand unassisted on the board before she gets tired of falling into the water and coming up to Kira’s apologetic smiles, and tells Kira to push her on the surfboard. Kira gets on behind her and they paddle out further into the water, watching the sun glisten off the endless expanse of water. Kira runs her hands through her hair, wet and salty and content. Malia’s weight on the board feels right.

When the sun starts to turn to dusky pinks and sinks down into the horizon, steeping the water a brilliant, royal violet, Kira suggests they paddle back so Malia can catch some pictures of the sunset before it goes out completely, and slides off the board. Malia follows suit, and for a moment they bob in the water on opposite sides of the board, fingers close enough to touch but not quite, separated by fine grains of salt and sand. Malia smiles, just a little bit, and a wave pushes them just a hair closer together, close enough that underneath the scent of the ocean, Kira can still smell that honey and sandalwood flavor that is uniquely her.

Kira’s body thrums in the waning sunlight, and then Malia’s smile turns mischievous as she sprays Kira in the face with the salt water she's been keeping in her cheeks and splashes away laughing.

“Last one to shore has to clean up the campsite!” Malia calls over her shoulder, and leaves Kira bobbing in the water and the weight of her feelings. The surfboard clunks against her arm, but she doesn't quite feel it. Kira is smitten.

* * *

 

After midterms are over, Malia decides that Kira needs to go out and celebrate.

“But I just went out with you!” Kira tries, reaching for the book that Malia snapped out of her hands. She bats Kira’s hands away and hides the book behind her back.

“The last time we went out was that Kappa mixer, and that totally doesn’t count because you only stayed for like one drink. Now get dressed. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.” Kira rolls her eyes but gets up and goes to her closet all the same. It’s not that she minds going out, and being at parties with Malia is like having a VIP pass. Malia seems to know everybody. Kira’s grown accustomed to her life of semi-anonymity. It’s easier that way, she thinks, flying under the radar until she’s certain there’s a reason to make a fuss. But Malia? She lives her life in the limelight, and Kira’s excited when she gets to have a little taste of that, too.

When they’re dressed and Malia’s done Kira’s hair and they’ve taken enough selfies to satisfy themselves, they head out to wait for the taxi. The club is just hitting its crescendo when they get there, and Kira’s in awe of how confidently Malia tugs her along, skips the line, winks at the bouncer, and snags them two wristbands as they head in. They drink first, colorful, sugary drinks that taste like their corresponding colors, and then they dance.

Kira’s always been self-conscious about her dancing. She was awkward and uncoordinated growing up, trying to learn how to work with her body as it grew around her rather than against it. And some of that has disappeared: Kira’s more comfortable in her skin now, but she feels like a baby bird sometimes, pushed from the nest and expected to fly. But with Malia helping her find the beat, it’s easier...it’s fun. Kira can throw her head back and sway into Malia’s fingers as they wrap around the curve of her waist and press into her lower back, holding her close while they move together. She doesn’t have to fend off the unwanted advances from drunk guys in backward snapbacks with Malia’s palms hot on her hips and the beat keeping her mind off of the thumping in her chest.

Malia twirls Kira and then pulls her in close. Their noses touch and they sway, laughing as the crowd pushes them closer together. It would be so easy for Kira to push up just an inch onto her toes and pitch forward into Malia’s embrace: they’re practically holding each other anyway. And she almost does it, but someone sloshes their drink all over Malia’s shirt, which makes it sticky and see-thru, and they decide to call it a night, giggling and stumbling over each other as they reenact the moment Malia felt the ice cube slip down into her bra. When the taxi comes, they climb in and settle down next to each other easily, buzzed and content to let their sticky fingers tap out the beat of the top 40s pop pouring from the speakers.

Malia whips off her shirt during the taxi ride when it starts sticking to her stomach. Content, she hands off the shirt to Kira to hold for safekeeping and throws her arms around Kira’s neck.

“I always have more fun when you come out with me,” Malia mumbles, and falls asleep just like that, with her nose pressed into Kira’s neck and her grip tight around Kira’s heart.

* * *

 

Finals weeks is hard on Kira and Malia. They don’t get enough time to do much other than work and sleep, and sometimes the sleep is forced to be optional. Even Malia, who set a personal goal to go to at least one party a week, has been cooped up right next to Kira in their dorm room. She prefers to spread out on the floor while she works, which is fine for Kira, who tucks her legs up underneath her while she works hunched over the desk.

On the second day of finals, Kira breaks. She throws a pen at Malia and then tosses her a jacket.

“I need to get outside. I haven’t seen anything other than fluorescent lights in two weeks and if I don’t get some sunlight I’m going to die. I can only imagine how you feel.” Kira stretches and pops her back as she pulls on a hoodie and her shoes. They get dressed in quiet, both in their own academic bubbles until they’re outside in the brisk December air. They walk close, shoulders brushing every so often, gesticulating as they complain about all of the work that they have to get done. Kira even gets a round of applause when she’s particularly crass about how much work she’s put into her History of Law class and how little she’s gotten out of it. Having the chance to vent the frustration is a breath of fresh air, and Kira watches Malia’s steps get lighter, less angry and tired as they walk.

As they round the expanse of the baseball field, Malia points out a couple down by the fence, pressed up against each other. She makes kissy faces at Kira and Kira pushes her away with a laugh.

“Don’t be jealous,” Kira teases. “If I had someone to make out with, I would be so much less stressed out.” She means for it to come out innocuously, but off her own lips it sounds kind of like a challenge. But Malia takes it in stride, stroking down her fake beard in agreement.

“That’s probably true. You have anyone you’re keeping your eye on?” It’s the first time they’ve ever really breached this topic of conversation, other than pointing out different celebrities they’d love a few minutes in heaven with. This question is tangible. They’ve stopped moving, and Kira’s arms sway awkwardly while her hands flounder by her sides, trying to come up with some kind of diversion, a way to avoid answering the question, pulling the trigger.

The beat in which Kira could have answered the question without it being awkward passes, and she’s still quiet. Malia isn’t quite smiling, but there’s something a little less than neutral about the quirk in her mouth. Kira can’t quite place it, and with Malia’s name on her lips, she chickens out.

“You know?” Kira says, breathlessly. “I  think I’m gonna take a nap before my next final,” she finishes, and takes off back down the baseball field as quickly as her legs can carry her, cursing herself for not saying anything and walking a little faster.

Things are strange during the rest of finals week. Kira and Malia still greet each other, still have every meal they can together and do their work and complain about finals and stay up too late, but there’s something restrained about it. Kira tries her best to chalk it up to the strain of finals, and they part after the week is over with a long hug and sweet holiday wishes.

* * *

 

When Kira comes back from winter break, she’s ready to face what she and Malia skirt around having. She had a long conversation with Scott, her best friend from home, who listened to her rant about Malia for hours on end, and then told her to stop being scared and say something. So Kira starts to research: “how to tell my roommate I love her”, “can roommates date?” (the internet is resoundingly negative about the answer to this question), “how to date and be roommates without ruining your relationship or your GPA” and other searches become her sole focus for the five weeks that she’s at home, and when she comes back, she’s ready to declare her intentions. She plans it out. Malia’s going to walk into the room and hug her in greeting, and Kira will ask about her break, and then when Malia asks her, she’ll do it. It’s foolproof.

Which is why it doesn’t work. When Malia comes in and drops her stuff on the bed, she foregoes a hug to pull out a Marine Biology textbook for a project that’s supposed to be half-done even though the semester hasn’t even started yet, and Kira’s chance to talk to her is gone. They sit in their own worlds for an hour, until Malia gets frustrated with her homework and snaps her pencil in half. Kira comes up behind her, smooths her hands out across Malia’s shoulders, and leans down over the desk to help her figure out whatever has her so angry.

They solve the problem in minutes, and Malia sighs and sinks back into the desk chair. “Thanks,” Malia says, and turns around to unleash the full extent of her smile on Kira. Kira smiles back, and it wobbles. Malia’s face is warm and open and the same face that Kira has gone to bed dreaming about for the last four months, and she never wants that to stop. All Kira really has to do is bend down, just a little bit more, and they would be kissing between their smiles. Kira panics.

“What’s wrong?” Malia asks when she sees the telltale worry wrinkle in the middle of Kira’s forehead, reaches up to smooth it out with the pad of her thumb.

“I should move out,” Kira blurts, and when Malia’s face falls, Kira loses the rest of her nerve and runs out of their dorm room, down the hall to hide in the common room before Malia has a chance to ask what’s happening.

* * *

 

When the door clicks shut, Malia sits stunned at the desk for a few more minutes before she starts snooping. This Kira, the woman who she spent countless hours with, wants to move out. It takes all of thirty seconds for her to decide to go through Kira’s internet history and figure out what’s going on. When she powers up Kira’s computer, she types in the password like the second-nature it’s become, MaliaHatesPickl3s, and is greeted by their faces squished together in front of the Hollywood sign. Malia smiles and opens the internet browser.

She only has to scroll for a moment, and later Malia will explain to Kira that she should maybe clear her browser history every once in a blue moon, and closes the laptop. Hope blooms in her chest, and she leaps off of Kira’s bed to grab an envelope from her bag. It’s been handled, like it was worried over for hours, passed back and forth between anxious fingers. There, in the middle of the envelope in Malia’s tight scrawl, is Kira’s name. She leaves the letter on Kira’s pillow and goes back to her biology project, unable to ignore that her heart beats faster whenever she hears someone walk by the door.

Kira doesn’t come back until well after two in the morning, when the moonlight is streaming through Malia’s open window and bathing the room in a pale silver light. Malia’s curled up on her bed, one arm wrapped around a pillow and the other dangling off the bed. In this light, Malia looks like an angel, heaven-sent and slowly returning to the clouds. Kira smiles a little bit, sad that she’s only here to grab pajamas so she can sleep in a friend’s room until she can untangle this mess, and crosses to her side of the room.

Her heart stops when she sees the letter, and she questions whether or not she’s going to read it at first. But she swallows the anxiety rising in her throat and opens the envelope. There’s a note that falls out first, dated yesterday. _This is the Christmas card I almost sent you?_

_Kira--_

_We made it through finals, so now I guess it’s the right time to say Merry Christmas, right? Look. I’m so in love with you, and I don’t know if you are, too, but if you are, can you let me know? It’s silly, but it feels like we’ve been so close to something, but you never said anything, and I tried to back off. ~~I can~~ ~~Don’t~~_

_We can be friends if you want. We’ll always be friends. But I would also really like to know what it’s like to kiss you under the mistletoe._

_Merry Christmas, Darling (?),_

_\--Malia_

Kira presses the note to her chest and takes a deep breath in, thanking every fiber of her being that she got as lucky as she did. She sets the note back down on her bed and tiptoes over to Malia, brushes a slow hand down her arm until the lines between asleep and awake blur and Malia is squinting up at her. When Malia opens her eyes, realizes that it’s Kira in her space, she looks concerned at first, but when she sees the peaceful smile on Kira’s face, she smiles. Kira’s fingers tangle with Malia’s and she leans down until she feels Malia’s breath tickle her cheek.

“Sorry there’s no mistletoe,” Kira whispers, and then closes the distance to finally, finally kiss her. Malia’s whole body relaxes on the bed, and she pulls Kira down so they tangle together, one oblong pile of limbs and blankets and kisses and little squeaks when they get too close to falling off the bed while they kiss the smiles off of each other’s mouths.

“Does that mean you’re not moving out?” Malia asks when they’re settled, Kira curled around Malia’s back, tucking her in close. Kira nods into Malia’s hair. “Then does that mean we can push the beds together and spoon?” Kira chuckles and closes her eyes as she nods again, lacing their fingers together on the pillow in front of Malia.

Yes. Yes it does.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on [tumblr!](demigirlisaaclahey.tumblr.com)


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